The South Bank had fared a little better; it also had a lot more to lose. The kitchen supplies had gone first: Wooden crates and grain bags could be seen swirling in the current; a soup pot eddied and tossed like a miniature boat. The sturdy dining area posts held out for long minutes, then the first one bent and toppled before their eyes. The others folded seconds later. Here and there, a flat paving stone bubbled up from the loosened soil, turning over and over like a leaf in the wind as it was sucked downstream.
Tears dripped down Juniper’s face. The Great Tree, at least, was unharmed. The giant stone wheel that leaned against its base, and which was so useful for climbing, had clearly weathered its share of floods. It hadn’t even shifted in the onslaught.
“The damage won’t reach the platform,” said Erick, coming up behind her. “The water’s all done rising. The Great Tree is safe.”
“The Beauty Chamber!” exclaimed Jessamyn. “Look!”
As the repository for storing all their collected gowns, decorative trinkets, jewelry, and beauty supplies, the Beauty Chamber’s main walls had been built strong and sturdy. And perhaps those walls alone might have held up.
But the Beauty Chamber also had an extension that dipped over the river, forming a delicious enclosed bathing room that Juniper had enjoyed often to great satisfaction. This feature was the building’s undoing, for the floodwaters dashed mercilessly up into that opening. As they watched, the walls of the Beauty Chamber first bulged . . . then exploded outward, disgorging a volley of gowns and ribbons and creams and wood-slat walls.
“Ooohhh,” moaned Oona. “All of them pretty things! All gone.”
“Ahem,” said Tippy. “Not all of them.”
All heads swung in her direction. The little girl just crooked a finger and darted off down the trail.
“Wait up, you sprocket!” called Alta. “It’s not safe to—”
“Sure ’tis!” said Tippy, stopping at the apartment cave she’d been lurking in just before the flood. “I’m only going just this far. See? Come in and peek, then, if you’re brave enough. I promise you a good reward!”
In the minutes they’d spent watching, the floodwater’s level had dropped slightly. It seemed safe to leave the Cavern, so Juniper stamped along the muddy trail—washed clean of its loose gravel, at any rate—with Alta and a handful of others behind her. Reaching the door of the small cave, Juniper peered inside. Her mouth dropped all the way open.
On the floor was a heap of dresses, slippers, undergarments, and a smattering of potted beauty supplies.
“What on the blooming earth?” said Alta.
“Everyone was rushing about building walls earlier,” said Tippy. “I got myself rolled in the mud, and went off to have a clean in the Beauty Chamber afore I kept going. Then I got to looking around at all these good garments, and so much icky water a-lapping up through the dipping pool. I thought, ‘Well, I could spirit some of it up a ways.’ For safekeeping-like, don’t you see? Get them away from all that wet. And so I did.”
Juniper was lost for words.
“I didn’t get a near fraction of all the goodness,” said Tippy sorrowfully.
Juniper wanted to laugh. It was the most trivial of rescues, to be sure. No dress nor petticoat nor vial of rosewater could affect one single thing in any of their lives, one way or another. And yet, the simplicity of the gesture, the pure goodness (and love of finery) that had moved Tippy to act, warmed Juniper through like nothing else.
Her hug nearly squashed Tippy’s breath full out of her.
“Well, well, well,” came a dry voice at the cave’s entrance. “Her whole kingdom is destroyed, but at least she has managed to keep her party dresses clean.”
Juniper looked up. “Cyril?”
He stood in the door, thoroughly drenched and caked with mud, beaming from ear to ear.
Juniper dashed across the room and joyfully grabbed his arm. “You’re safe!”
The rest of the group gaped at her.
“Queen’s Basin,” Juniper said, “I’ve got an all-new arrival to introduce to you today. Group, meet Cyril Lefarge. Cyril, meet the group. He’s not a bad sort, as it turns out, this cousin of mine. And he can blow a mean warning horn.”
• • •
The flood didn’t linger. Within an hour, the levels were visibly down, and by late afternoon, the waters had withdrawn entirely, leaving behind a mud-strewn, debris-scattered wasteland. The kids shed their shoes and stockings, and Juniper and the other girls tied their skirts around their knees. (Let propriety be buttonholed for the day, Juniper decided. There was simply too much to do.) Then they all picked their way down the hillside to inspect the damage. The heat had been completely sucked out of the stones—for the first time since their arrival, the ground was entirely cool to the touch. Juniper imagined the heat would gradually begin to build inside the stones until next year’s flood season.
No wonder the Anju had chosen not to live in this valley. It was an accursed spot, to be sure.
Or . . . was it?
She looked around. The Beauty Chamber was in shambles, and the animals’ enclosure fully demolished. The walls of the kitchen and dining area were broken beyond repair. But the heavy sitting and table stones still sat in their customary spots. The Great Tree was untouched. And the water level hadn’t come near the apartment caves. The bridge stood firm, and the new handrail had come through quite unscathed. Half the paving stones were gone, but they hadn’t gone far.
Juniper lifted her chin.
This was still her kingdom. And she was not going to let anything—not even a boiling flash flood—wrestle it from her. She turned and let out a piercing whistle to get everyone’s attention. Then she jumped up on the nearest boulder and flung her arms out wide.
“Citizens of Queen’s Basin,” she called, “we have faced down many challenges in our kingdom’s short history, and this may be our biggest one yet. We are looking at the near destruction of our settlement, the loss of all our many weeks of work. Ruddy hard work, too, from early morning till late night. The elements themselves have conspired against us.” With a little human help, but there was no need to go into that just now. “But shall we be overcome? Will fire and water take us down?”
She looked around the group. More than one face blinked uncertainly back at her.
“It does raise the question of safety,” said Paul. “How do we know such a flood won’t just sweep back on us again tomorrow? Or the day after?”
Erick cleared his throat. “I’ve been doing a lot of reading—first, I should say how sorry I am for not predicting this earlier. The Peakseason Floods are all across my books, only I never connected them to our Basin. Also . . . well, it’s not peakseason, right?”
Juniper grimaced. There was a lot she still needed to fill him in on.
“That’s the one thing that bothers me,” he went on. “If it weren’t for that—well, I’ve never heard of any flood of this type taking place outside of that one time every year. It’s a matter of accumulation. It takes all those months for the heat and pressure to build to where the water overflows its containment area.”
“The timing won’t be a problem in the future,” Juniper said. “I will tell you all the story later of how this whole thing came about. But for now, you’re right—if we know the flood only comes at peakseason, and if we know that it’s coming when we build . . .”
“Then we can counter it,” Roddy said. “I’ve got some ideas already—ballast and reinforced foundations. We’re prepared now. We can handle this.”
“Plus, there’s masses of warning,” said Leena. “Them banks were bulging for days, and putting out heat to sizzle the kettle besides! We just didn’t know what to look for, so we didn’t connect it to an actual threat. Now we know what’s coming, there’s plenty of means to get to safety once the signs begin to show.”
Juniper nodded. “
This is our country, settlers. This is our kingdom. Shall we give it up to the fiery elements? Shall we let ourselves be chased out of this home we’ve come to love, this place we’ve made our own?” She thrust her arms into the air. “I say NO. I say that we view today’s events as a setback, nothing more. I say we join together and work to make Queen’s Basin better than it has ever been before. And I say we begin this very moment!”
Her speech was met with a satisfying roar of approval, and without further delay, the group set to work. The final dregs of floodwater had drained out, and the lingering puddles were evaporating fast. Still, every bit of the Bank was mud-splattered, strewn with torn-up turf and uprooted plants. Tree limbs were everywhere.
There was no hope of getting this disaster area back to its pre-flood state anytime soon, of course. Nor was that really at the top of their minds, given their plans to journey soon out to Torr. But at least they could do the basics before they left. They could give the Basin a hearty freshening up. They could stake their claim and make it clear that this was their home and they weren’t about to be scared away.
Juniper divided them into teams: Leena and Sussi attacked the kitchen area; Toby went to settle the animals while Filbert and Roddy rebuilt their fences; Paul traipsed off to the gardens to see if anything could be salvaged; Erick, Alta, Root, and—Juniper couldn’t help a lingering thrill—Cyril worked on collecting debris and dragging the loosened paving stones back to be resettled in their spots. Tippy flitted from group to group handing out fresh rags, buckets of water, and other needful items.
Oona sidled up to Juniper and asked, in a low and bashful tone, whether she might not assist Root in his wanderings, for surely there was too much rubbish for him to collect alone. Suppressing an eye-roll, Juniper gave her permission. If Oona’s crush had transferred from Cyril to Root, then so much the better. She just hoped the boy knew what he was in for.
As for Jess, no sooner had Juniper passed out the rest of the tasks and turned in her direction than Jess let out a yell, raising her arm to the sky. Sure enough, Juniper spotted the messenger, winging its way across the sky toward the Beacon.
The girl sure had the gift of timing!
Without further hesitation, Juniper passed the role of overseer to Erick and followed Jess up the slope. She didn’t think she’d ever seen the stately girl move this quickly, even within her newly revealed persona.
After long minutes, they reached the tiny cave where the little ghost-bat messenger now roosted after its long flight from the palace. With a barely suppressed thrill, Juniper pulled a rolled-up message off the creature’s leg.
“It’s from Egg!” Jess exclaimed, scooting in to read along with Juniper.
To my faraway Sister and her Companions:
I send you greetings from the beset Palace of Torr. You requested a full news bulletin, and this I shall provide for you here. King Regis remains imprisoned. He is held captive in his very own dungeon—more the insult!—along with the entirety of his guard and armed forces, and any adult Torrean within the palace who did not swear allegiance to the Monsian invaders.
Those of us Torreans who remain free have been reduced to servile tasks, a fact which quite pleases me for the free access I have to prowl the palace and gather intelligence. I am formulating a plan for takeover, but I shall require assistance in filling certain roles, for I do not imagine I might retake this place all on my own.
Or perhaps I could. But it would be more difficult.
In any case, King Regis is due to be transported to Monsia—there to be locked up much more securely, or worse!—sometime soon after the close of the grand Summerfest, which begins two weeks hence. We must therefore proceed with due haste, for if he is swallowed into the wastelands of that nether nation, he shall doubtless be as good as dead.
So, my sister, what can you do for me? You can convey all of this information to Princess Juniper at once, and beg her to gather me up such an army as she might possess, that we may retake the palace posthaste.
Bring me the people, and I will see to everything else.
I remain your scheming, busily planning relation,
Eglantine Ceward
There was so much information in this letter that Juniper had to read it three times to take it all in. The first thing she felt was an overwhelming sense of relief—her father was imprisoned, yes, but he was safe. As safe as he could be under Monsian guard, and certainly much threatened. But he was alive! All those fears she’d fought over the last torturous weeks were finally put to rest. So much peril remained at hand, so much hung over them all—but right now, just at this moment, he was well.
There was still hope.
“Two weeks,” Juniper said, looking up to meet Jess’s gaze.
The other girl nodded. “It’s not long. And even a bit less, taking out a day for this message to reach us.”
“Your sister seems like quite the dynamo.”
“That she is,” Jess agreed. “Egg talks a strong game. But one thing she has no use for is empty promises.”
“So we can count on her to be truly building up a fighting plan?”
“You can count on her for anything.”
Jess lapsed into silence after that, and Juniper herself appreciated the space. There was a lot to think about. More than anything, she wanted to leap to action, but first, she needed to come up with a plan for what to do. They clambered back down the mountain, where Jess joined one of the work crews (with just a token number of complaints; new-formed habits died hard, apparently), and Juniper set about her own tasks of scrubbing, dragging, and lifting. But all the while, her mind was leagues away, circling the palace of Torr, prodding and probing, angling for a way in. Assessing this newest and most puzzling of allies, Jess’s sister, Egg. Picturing the third Anju trial, Zetta heading toward her fiery foe, Odessa’s words: The last of our proud line . . . You were meant to come here, to be here at this time. Thinking of what might have been, had Juniper been able to continue the contest through to its end. And thinking, most of all, of their immediate need, more urgent now than ever.
An army to march in defense of Torr.
Where on earth were they going to get an army?
• • •
They worked all through the afternoon, through the dusk, and well into the night, thanks to hastily erected torch posts. By the time the full moon began tipping toward the far horizon, the Basin was in a tolerable state, and the group collapsed upon the dining area in one famished heap. Leena had dipped into their dwindling supplies that had been stored in the Cavern, and she and Sussi had produced a magnificent smoked-meat pie, with garlicky wild greens on the side. Their last bag of salt had been lost in the flood, but not a word of complaint was heard.
As they sat quietly munching, many kids half dozing off where they sat, Juniper considered next steps. The progress they’d made in their feverish work attack was astonishing. Of course, there was still much to do to bring Queen’s Basin back to its pre-flood state. But the immediate tasks had been tended to. Their base was secure and their kingdom in good shape.
For right now, Juniper knew, their task here was done. Now they needed to turn their attention outward. Egg’s letter had made one thing abundantly clear: The time had come to follow through on their plan. They needed to head out from Queen’s Basin.
It was time to go and save Torr.
And there was only one way Juniper knew to do this. A thread of an idea was forming in her mind. She had no idea if it would work, but truthfully? She’d ventured out on thinner ledges before.
She’d just have to take that step and see if it held her.
“Listen up, everybody,” she said, and each tired face turned in her direction. “We’ve worked right down to the bone today, all of us. No one has ever better deserved a night’s rest. So we’re going to sleep hard tonight. Because tomorrow, we’re going to rise early, eat a hearty breakfa
st, and then I’m going to take you on a little excursion.”
A thin-ledge thread of an idea—that was all. She could only hope it would be enough.
It was time to take Queen’s Basin to the Anju.
22
THE NEXT MORNING FOUND THE QUEEN’S Basin group bright-eyed and wildly enthusiastic. In spite of all they’d been through the day before and the short night of sleep, everybody was active and alert as they set off on their expedition. They put Juniper in mind of a tour group being paraded past a series of famous landmarks. The kids gaped at the winding tunnel through Mount Ichor, shivered in delight as they crossed the suspension bridge over to Mount Rahze (Tippy leading the way with not a hint of her early terror), and marveled at the wide clearing of stumps. Here Juniper led Jess and Tippy to the hollow where Fleeter still lay, curled up and snoring outrageously. Jess squatted down and gave a low whistle. The frowzy creature sprang to life and catapulted itself into her arms. While Tippy clapped in glee, Fleeter slung himself across Jess’s shoulders with a purr of satisfaction so loud it was nearly a roar. They fit together, Juniper realized with a rush—the clever cat and the cagey girl, each masquerading their true natures under cover of their plain, everyday exteriors.
How remarkable a force was nature!
From there, the group pressed into the forest toward the Anju village. The air felt substantially warmer than it had in the days before. The sun was high and bright, but Juniper wondered whether the flood had caused any temperature shifts on this mountain, as well. To judge from the snowbroth they were now wading through, perhaps it had.
When at last they reached the hidden village of the Anju, the kids’ necks arched back as they took in the ropes, swings, and structures that could be seen from the ground. The tree houses were all deserted, though, and Juniper knew why; she could clearly hear the buzz of conversation from the gathering spot at the village’s far end. Despite all the chaos of the last hours, only a day and a night had passed since Juniper had stormed away from the Trials. Back on this mountain, the third and final stage of the competition had just come to a close. The Anju would be gathering to celebrate their new leader.
Princess Juniper of the Anju Page 17